Young Potter
by The Werewolf Mage
Summary: Follows James Potter from the age of ten to getting his letter at Hogwarts. Has a few laughs, a bit of spoiling parents, and a very spoiled James Potter to boot.


Title: Young Potter

Summary: Follows James Potter from the age of ten to getting his letter at Hogwarts. Has a few laughs, a bit of spoiling parents, and a very spoiled James Potter to boot.

**Note: It's just meant for fun and something to enjoy. I got the idea and I'm going to try to run with it. **

**And I bet some of you think I fell off the face of the earth. No that's not true. I've just not been feeling well. Lot of chest pain, lot of arm pain, fun things like that. But I'll try to keep updating this and anything else I've not finished and I'll try to keep on a strict schedule. **

**And I'll welcome PMs yelling at me to get off my butt and update gladly!**

**AND, last and here, if this goes well I'll do a complete Young Series, following Young Pettigrew, Young Lupin, Young Black and Young Black (separate fics of course), Young Snape, and whomever else.**

Chapter 1

Ten-year-old James Potter heaved a sigh. It was the 27th of March, his birthday. And he was bored. He flopped back on his bed and heard the approaching sound of purring. His black and white Kneazle, Figaro, crawled onto his chest and began to flex his claws.

Rubbing the Kneazle's fur with one hand, James used the other hand to brush his unruly black hair out of his eyes. When he flopped onto the bed, his glasses slipped from his face but he did not bother to straighten them.

"James! Where are you?"

James barely stirred at his mother's sing-songy call. Probably another birthday present. Or cake.

Though he had to admit, her cake was delicious! Pushing Figaro off his chest, James swung his legs over the bed and got to his feet as his mother opened the door.

She was a rather attractive woman for her age. Her brown hair was sprinkled with grey, her eyes the same hazel color as her son's. She was rather tall too. A crisp white apron was covering her deep green robes. One hand was behind her back.

"I know your father would have rather I waited until he got back but I couldn't keep this from you." She held out her hand, offering her son a new racing broom.

"Thanks Mum." James said softly.

"Anything the matter James?" she asked.

James glanced at his feet before glancing back up at her. "I just wish it were next year." A faint smile played at his lips as Figaro tried to get his attention. "I want to go to Hogwarts already!"

Elaina Potter smiled faintly at her son. "You'll go next year James. I promise. I know a year is a long time to wait but why not try out your new broom in the meantime?"

Diligently James took his broom and headed out into the garden. For a moment he silently thanked his parents for living away from city and town. Muggles would of course notice a wizarding child on a broomstick. Especially one as good as he was.

Whenever he got to Hogwarts he would definitely try out for the Quidditch team. Maybe they'd let him on in his first year! Even though only second years and above could try out.

He swooped and dove on his broom while he thought. Maybe he could be a great Seeker. Though Seeking was a bit dull. All you did was fly around looking for the Snitch.

Beater? "Mum would have a fit!" he said with a laugh. Chasing after the balls that chase YOU? He did not need to give his mother a heart attack!

Keeper? Keeping seemed as dull as Seeking to him. Just flying around, catching balls that came at you? And if you didn't catch a ball there would be a lot of jeering your way.

Chasing? Now that was were it was at! Scoring goals, making plays, yes that was what he would try out for.

Lost in his thoughts, James did not hear his mother calling him until his father's voice broke through his thoughts as well.

Landing spectacularly, he glanced at his father, who looked torn between being pleased with his son and slightly annoyed that he was not around when James was given his broom.

He was also tall, with the same jet black hair James had. He, too, had hazel eyes, covered by black glasses. He smiled at his son. "Enjoying your broom James?" he asked.

"Yes, I am. Thank you."

"Come inside. It's nearly time for lunch."

James followed his parents inside, feeling that dejected feeling he had felt before his mother had given him his broom. He knew where it came from of course. One more long, boring year of his parents' dinner parties, of going to Diagon Alley and not being able to buy his school supplies and robes, of going to Hogsmeade and being so, so close to Hogwarts and not yet being there.

With a sigh he poked at his lunch. He was aware of Figaro winding himself between his legs and purring loudly, hoping that James would drop whatever yummy lunch he was eating on the floor for him.

His parents were talking. James did not really care what they had to say. As they started in on dessert, his birthday cake, James glanced outside. A handsome barn owl was waiting patiently at the window. For one moment his hoped it was from Hogwarts, but he realized his owl was probably for his father.

"Dad, there's an owl outside."

His father got to his feet and hurried to the window. The own dropped the letter it was carrying and flew back without even entering the house like James had seen so many other owls do.

In a way only a ten-year-old boy could be, James was curious. He and his mother watched his father as he tore through the parchment envelope. Reading the letter, Jason Potter's eyebrows nearly met.

"I need to go. I'm sorry James. I know it's your birthday but Moody -- "

"Go ahead Jason." Elaina Potter spoke for both herself and her son. "We understand. Alastor is not the easiest of people!" She ended with a laugh that James's father shared with her. Silently, he hopped from his chair and trudged into his room, Figaro meowing at his feet. It was moments like this when he could not wait to go to Hogwarts.


End file.
